


and carry me home in good health

by limned



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Post-Battle of New York (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 16:29:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10620747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limned/pseuds/limned
Summary: He’s used to Natasha retreating into herself after intense missions, so it’s confusing when she doesn’t do that in New York.





	

He’s used to Natasha retreating into herself after intense missions, so it’s confusing when she doesn’t do that in New York.

It starts in the middle of the weird post-battle shawarma when he tries to stretch his knee and winces at the tightening ache. He’s reaching for an extra chair and she shoves his hand away and leans down to grab his ankle, pulling his leg up to rest on her chair. Then she goes back to eating and staring fixedly at a point somewhere between his chin and his shoulder.

Tony had called for transport so there are two huge black Escalades waiting at the curb, bizarrely clean and shiny among the rubble. Clint would already be climbing aboard except the others are talking and Natasha is blocking his way so he can’t. He goes to step around her and she puts a solid finger against his chest while she’s still saying something to Thor. He blinks at her but she doesn’t move until they’re done and everyone is piling into the vehicles, Thor and Steve splitting off to the first one and waving tiredly behind them.

Tony and Bruce talk in disjointed bursts of hyperactivity and exhaustion and Natasha is sitting so close that she’s pressed against him from shoulder to knee. They stop at her safehouse building on 59th and he’s not prepared at all when she snaps, “Clint,” and hauls him out behind her. He hears Tony laugh and say, “Hope he’s got enough strength to—“ before Natasha kicks the door shut.

Her fingers are hooked into the shoulder of his vest and she doesn’t let go at any point until they’re inside her apartment.

She skins off her uniform and boots in about five quick motions, so fast he can barely follow them, and he absolutely can’t handle the stunning view of everything he’s seeing, and then she’s up against him and peeling off his own uniform with a tiny intense frown of concentration. Her hands are unbuckling his belt when he finally manages to stammer, “Nat, what are—“ and she puts her nose against his, eyes narrow and fierce, and says, “If you ask me what I’m doing this time, you’re going to regret it,” and he stares back and says, “Okay. I won’t, then.”

She trips him up right there in the front hallway, sending him down on his back. He’s still trying to wrap his brain around it when she yanks his pants down and slides back up, breasts and skin and _warmth_ like a long shuddering stroke that reaches straight down inside him. He rocks mindlessly against her thigh and she braces herself on his shoulders and pushes down, taking his cock fast, so wet and tight that he shakes and groans desperately, his arms coming up to lock around her, shaking harder when she moves to meet him. It’s fast and rough and glorious and they kiss for the first time when he’s already coming inside her.

Natasha doesn’t give him enough time to start worrying about it, after. She pulls him up and tows him into her bed and she’s still touching him the whole time, still touching him as he falls asleep.


End file.
